


Patience Is Not a Favored Virtue

by AutoTragedyCollection



Series: A Storyteller At Heart [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Brothels, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Pining, Praise Kink, Sexual Fantasy, Shameless Smut, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:55:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24714208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutoTragedyCollection/pseuds/AutoTragedyCollection
Summary: When Geralt and Jaskier go to a brothel together they end up with side by side rooms. It shouldn't be a big deal. Except that it is.References past works, but can be read separately. Set in 1246.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: A Storyteller At Heart [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784794
Comments: 27
Kudos: 183





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I told you guys I was gonna loosen up more before I wrote smut. So I promptly plotted two more parts, including this two chapter festival. Enjoy.

In front of him, Jaskier was waltzing up to the proprietor of the brothel. He rested both hip and elbow on the counter as he inquired about two rooms and two women. If Geralt had seen anyone else take that posture he would have assumed they were arrogant at best, or a cocky arse at worst. But when Jaskier did it, he almost looked debonair.

The room, though more of a bar, smelled of ale and sex. Round the tables were men, women, and even several who blurred the lines between the two, drinking and making merry.

"We've only got one woman who'll willingly serve your kind." The woman at the bar addressed him sternly.

Geralt nodded. He wasn't in the least surprised. The widespread misconception that witchers were monsters, and thus monstrous in even the fine things, had lead him to this situation, or worse, more than once.

"Lucky for you, as I was just explaining to your friend here, she's one of the last two available this evening." Her voice was kinder once it was clear Geralt wasn't planning to argue.

"Many thanks ma'am," Jaskier straightened, now having put forward their pile of coin.

"Save your thanks for the girls." She chuckled, winking at him cheekily, and pulling the gold the rest of the way across the bar. Then she called across the room, "Bri!" She beckoned a young blonde woman forward from where she'd been enjoying bread with other women at a table. "Bring these fine men to their rooms, Muriel for the witcher, and see if Anorra is ready."

Bri nodded, and threw a casual smile at them both, before turning with a wave of her hand. She lead them up the thickly carpeted stairs to a series of rooms above.

While they waited for Bri to return from within Anorra's chambers, Geralt noticed belatedly that the two rooms were next to each other and he cast a sidelong glance to Jaskier who blinked back.

"What?" He asked suddenly nervous under Geralt's gaze. "Have I got something on my face?"

"The rooms are right next to each other. What if I hea-"

The door in front of him opened interrupting his explanation.

"Are you going to stand there ogling your friend all day or are you going to get in here and entertain me?"

Geralt's head whipped toward the speaker. Equal parts curiosity at whom he would be 'entertaining', and to defend the accusation. But the woman standing there made his mouth run dry, and whatever retort he had died in his throat.

Her hair was curled at her ears and was a pleasantly warm shade of brown. She had a sheer robe on that did little to hide her pert breasts and well muscled shoulders. Her face was soft, but there was a strong set to her jaw and smirk playing across her lips that set her neck into fascinating relief.

When Geralt made no move to enter, she reached out and grabbed his arm to pull him inside. There was no fear in her scent, in fact he could already smell the familiar cinnamon spice of arousal hanging heavily in the surrounding air. It was dizzying, and he found himself, not just willingly, but eagerly following her lead.

The door shut behind him with a click, and he found himself crowded against it.

"It's been a long time since I've laid with a witcher." Her breath was hot against his lips, and he discovered that she was very nearly his height. "Is there something you'd like to say before we begin?"

"Can I touch you?" He sighed, wanting to get the awkward question over with.

In his experience, many women who spent nights with him were only comfortable using their mouths. It was something he understood, if they considered his hands bloody, tainted. The last thing he wanted was to be in the heat of the moment only to find the atmosphere souring with distress. It left him addled with guilt, and the women shaken.

She pulled away, and when she did her expression was tender. She placed her palm open against his cheek, and the intimacy of the gesture reminded him of Jaskier. Heat rose in cheeks, and he knew that had he been more capable, he'd be blushing.

"It would be a shame if you didn't." She smiled at him, but there wasn't any cockiness. It was compassion. Maybe even sympathy, but it didn't bother him. She was comfortable with him, was willing- wanted to do this.

Her hand slipped down his cheek towards the side of his neck where she squeezed. It was comforting if a little possessive; he liked it more than he cared to admit.

"Let's go slow, hmm?" Muriel leaned in and her lips brushed against his cheek bone in a chaste kiss. Then she was pulling him towards the bed and sitting him down. She moved to the bedside table, where she lit a candle and then returned her attentions to him.

"Put one hand on my hip, the other on my shoulder." She took a careful hold of his wrists and guided them to where she wanted. "I'd quite like to kiss you now." She said quietly, and her eyes were lidded, her gaze heavy on his lips. He could almost feel a phantom weight there. She leaned in slowly, and let their breaths mingled before pressing her lips to his. She gripped the hair on the nape of his neck firmly, and he sighed into the kiss. The opportunity allowed her to slip her tongue into his mouth.

Almost unconsciously he felt his hands wander over the expanse of her body. The slippery fabric teased his finger tips, and he could feel the ridges of her muscles. He pulled her closer, slotting her firmly between his legs, and pulled away from her to mouth openly at her breast and stomach.

"That's it." She murmured, petting his head with her free hand while he slipped her robe off her shoulders.

Distantly he heard a chuckle and faint conversation from the next room over. _"Yeah, he'd touch me- just like that."_

_Of course Jaskier's a talker._

"Let's get those clothes off, love." Muriel interrupted his train of thought. Her fingers teased at the ties of his shirt, and she helped him pull it off. She moved to her knees and unlaced his boots with care before moving to the buttons of his pants.

"What's your name witcher?" She asked, and mouthed at his half hard erection through his small clothes while tugging his trousers down.

He hummed with pleasure before answering. "Geralt- Geralt of Rivia."

"Well Geralt of Rivia. You are my favorite client of the evening."

He shivered at the feel of her hot breath. Normally, he'd assume a woman in her position was lying, but he could detect no trace of such, and it thrilled him to full hardness.

"You like that, hmm?" Muriel ran her hands soothingly over the tops of his bare thighs. "The last witcher I was with was the same. All that strength, but he didn't want to use it. The right words had him undone. It was a wonderful experience, mutually I believe." She chuckled. "Lie back for me?"

When he did, she pulled his underclothes down and off. His cock was enveloped in soft, wet, heat, and he groaned. His shaky found their way hesitantly to her hair, and he could swear he felt her smiling around him.

Geralt's nose twitched, and he took a deep breath enjoying the scent of the burning candle- lavender and cedar. His eyes flew open and confusion washed over him. _Jaskier._

Almost as if on cue he heard the bard whimper through the wall. It was followed by quick pants and " _more, please more"._

But Muriel was sliding up his body, draping herself in all her naked glory over him, and he was lost again in the feeling of being chest to chest with someone. In a way he never was- except on the coldest nights pressed tight to Jaskier in his bedroll-

"Ah-" He gasped into the kiss when her hand pumped tightly around his length. "Fuck," Geralt muttered, bucking into her fist. He flexed his hands on her hips.

It could've been minutes or hours, but she's lowered herself onto him with a throaty cry. He moved a hand to rub at her clit and with a punched out gasp she rutted forward to seat herself fully.

Muriel slumped forward."Melitele bless witchers and their good sense." She whispered and bit his ear lobed gently. Then she started a slow grind on him, each movement drawing out sharp groans.

With a quiet rumble in his chest, Geralt flipped them over. He kissed her cheek, and down the side of her neck where he nipped hungrily at the hollow of her throat.

"Fuck- Yes, that- Thank you." She panted, tilting her head back to give him better access as he fucked into her thoroughly.

"So good to me, so good Geralt." Her hands fluttered to his hips, and his heart stuttered at the praise.

"Shit-" She inhaled sharply, "Right there, that's it."

 _"Please, enough, just get in me already- ah!"_ Jaskier's voice, rough with want sounded through the wall. _"Oh- ho, yes, fuck- thank you, thank you- mmm."_ It was followed by a woman's snicker.

_"I should be thanking you. I don't get to do this every day."_

Geralt was pointedly aware of the candle again, and moaned brokenly against Muriel's neck, spurred on both by the scent and the image painted in his mind by the words he overheard. No, that wasn't it. That would mean-

"Ah- That's wonderful, love," Muriel pulled him into a rough kiss that was more teeth than tongue. She scratched her nails down his back, not enough to hurt, but it lit him up from his head down to his toes. Her legs curled around him.

He felt a familiar heat building low in his stomach.

"Muriel- Fuck- l- I'm close." He whispered into her ear, trying to breathe her in, anything but that damn candle and the disorienting feeling stirring in chest.

"Good, good." She shuddered. "Touch me, please."

Geralt reached down and forced a hand between them, taking the time to run it over her quivering abdomen. This time, when he rubbed against her, timing it carefully with his thrusts, she whined loudly.

"Oh gods- That's perfect, your perfect-"

The rhythm of his hips faltered in the face of her adulation, and he moaned again.

Her eyes were screwed shut, and her brow pinched in concentration.

Geralt licked at the line of sweat running down her neck, and she clenched around him with a shout.

_"Fuck- fuck- Geralt-"_

The combination of the warm tightness around his cock and Jaskier calling his name, the confusion that he liked that, _really_ liked that, it was too much. He thrust into her roughly a handful more times, and then he was trembling through his own release. His body buzzed as he worked himself and Muriel through the sweltering haze of pleasure. He collapsed against her, lights still flashing behind his eyes. Exhaustion lapped at the edge of his mind as he laid there, shivering slightly in her arms.

Muriel trailed her hands up and down his sides with a contented hum. Geralt listened as her heart began to slow it's pounding against her ribs.

After a moment, he pulled out carefully, and they both whimpered at the stimulation. He lifted himself off and to the side of her, but he took her with him and cradled her to his chest. Geralt was determined to relish every precious moment of contact. But the stillness around them was broken by a high, muffled wail.

_"That's it darling, let go for me."_

Jaskier keened under whatever it was Anorra was doing and Geralt did his best to ignore the way his cock twitched again in interest, focusing instead on Muriel's warm resonating laugh when she noticed.

"I wouldn't mind bedding your companion either. He does sound so... delectable."

A shot of dread chilled his stomach, but he was too tired to argue, and he chose rather to kiss her lazily than deal with the conflict inside him.

_"Ah- by Melitele-"_

It was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is enjoying himself very thoroughly when he's struck by a realization. Alternatively, you gain context for everything Geralt overheard.

"The rooms are right next to each other. What if I hear-" Geralt started, looking at Jaskier intensely, but he was interrupted by the door in front of him opening.

"Are you going to stand there ogling your friend all day or are you going to get in here and entertain me?" The woman in the door, _Muriel, was it?_ looked almost predatory.

Jaskier felt a blush creep of his neck as he registered her words. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. His eyes were caught on the rigid muscle in her forearms when she pulled Geralt into the room. He continued to gawk till Bri stepped out, leaving the door behind her ajar.

"Anorra will see you now." She offered him a slight bow and then retreated down the hall.

Anorra's room was carpeted with fabrics of rich colors and patterns from floor to ceiling. Light was low, provided only by wall mounted candles and the remains of a fire smoldering in the hearth. The woman herself was seated nude at a vanity, weaving her red hair into a long plate over her shoulder. She was a petite and soft woman, bearing lovely curves and a charming spray of freckles across her shoulders and cheeks. The corner of her eyes crinkled with a coquettish smile when he met them in her reflection.

"Do you like what you see?" She turned in her chair to face him, but leaned back in a way that emphasized the spread of her bosom.

"Do you?" He answered. Jaskier appreciated the use of cliches in these moments; enjoyed the playful performance. He was an artist in all else, why should lovemaking be any different? Production made the shift towards authenticity all the sweeter.

"Hmm..." Toe first and delicate, Anorra stood and walked to him. She gripped his chin loosely and tilted his head to examine his jaw. At a good five inches shorter than himself, the gesture was endearing. Mockingly she appraised him. "I think you'll do just fine," And she patted his cheek.

Jaskier shrugged off his doublet, and draped it over her chair. While his back was turned, she took the opportunity to press herself bodily against him. He leaned back into her, reveling in the feel of her hands roaming across his clothed breast as he fumbled to untuck his top.

"I like you like this." She teased, as though she'd seen him in any other manner of dress, and tugged the tie of his hemmed chemise. A gift from the Countess, it was one of his favorites.

Soft white silk, with ties that could be undone well towards his navel, and oh that lace. It shimmered in the right light, and did wonderful things to his collarbones.

Anorra tickled at the shock of dark hair at the top of his chest and helped him pull the slip up and off. When it was, she mouthed wetly over and between his shoulder blades. Her hands played at the waist of his pants and he released a heavy sigh. Then he was gripped in a loose fist and he groaned. She jerked him slowly and massaged gently at his abdomen.

"As lovely as-" He paused, distracted by the sensations, "lovely as this is, I had something ah- slightly different in mind."

Standing on her tip-toes to nip at his ear lobe she murmured, "Do you really?" She ran her hands greedily across his front. "How intriguing. Do go on." Breathing hotly across his shoulders her hands continued to wander.

He closed his eyes and took a moment to enjoy the reverence with which she touched him, before he continued, "Would you bed me? I have a particular fancy I'd like to play out if you're amenable." His cheeks warmed when she hummed in a way that was low, and familiar.

She gripped his wrists and pulled his arms wide, leaving him spread and vulnerable. "Something like that?"

"Not quite. Though, I am well acquainted with such activities and their merits." And indeed, the dominance in the gesture was not lost on him, nor on his prick, which stirred in a valiant effort to sway his plans.

"That's a shame, you'd look lovely all strung up beneath me." Anorra purred, and she almost sounded disappointed, but then there were hot and firm hands grabbing his arse. "You'd like me to take you then?"

 _Oh she does like that,_ he thought to himself rather smugly. "I really would."

"A man who knows what he wants is always a beautiful thing."

Jaskier could feel her smirk against his back when she urged him to bed.

"Jaskier," He announced quietly when he sat at the end. "My name is Jaskier."

"Anorra." She said in reply, and that grin became gentler. "Why don't you tell me more of that fantasy of yours." Then she turned away to rummage through the bedside table.

"I travel with... a certain companion, he- Well he may just be the love of my life, or the current one anyway." He sighed wistfully, "I do fall in love often. But if we- he and I... I like to wonder at how he'd touch me."

"And you didn't call for a man for such things?" She faced him holding two phallaces in her hand, a silent question of which he'd prefer.

He pointed at the larger one and watched the sureness with which her nimble fingers fastened it to the straps she'd donned. He flushed when he finished processing the question. Jaskier hid his face by working off his trousers.

"I wouldn't want to get carried away with my musings."

It wasn't that he'd stopped bedding men, he thoroughly enjoyed those endevors, and generally would much rather have sex than yearn and wither in his loneliness. He just hasn't been on the receiving end with men since- well since he'd realized. Not for lack of trying, it remained enjoyable, but he found that he began to prefer giving. It allowed him to better focus on his partner's satisfaction and didn't inspire pining- well not to the same degree, but that was only because he really would like to get his mouth on Geralt's co-

"I'm certain I can have you suitably beguiled."

"God, I hope so." He rested back on his palms, puffing his chest out just slightly.

She rested a hand on his shoulder, the other gripped his neck in a possessive display, and bent to his ear, "How would he handle you, you slippery little thing?"

Jaskier's eyes fluttered shut and his breath rushed out from between his lips. "He's terribly strong, but he wouldn't use it, he's always so worried about hurting me. He'd be firm though- he hates it when I don't listen, which is really unfair because he's always asking me to stay behind-"

"Focus, Jaskier." Anorra's voice was low and rough, she flexed the hand at his neck and pushed him down on the bed.

"He'd finger me open till I was begging for it- obviously under the guise of making sure I was ready-" He gasped when she ground her stomach against his erection, "But I think he would like to watch me squirm."

She released him from her hold, but kept his eyes closed when her strong arms pushed his legs up and open.

"Yeah, he'd touch me- just like that."

Anorra chuckled warmly. "See? It's not that hard. Keep going."

His breath caught in his throat when she fisted their cocks together, and she must've retrieved oil because it was warm and slick and he could feel it all the way down to his toes.

"He'd try to hold me still when he pressed in, but he'd give in and just- ah fuck me."

Dextrous wet fingers played with his rim and when he bucked into the touch he found a palm pressing down firmly on his middle to pin his hips to the bed. A single digit pressed and probed inside him and he did his best to relax into the pressure.

"Hmm well done." She praised, and began working in a second and then a third.

He whimpered at the burn, but she licked up his chest and peppered warm kisses over his face, and then she crooked her fingers just so-

"Oh-"

"There it is," And she sounded far too self assured. She massaged that spot roughly until Jaskier was whining.

"More, please more." He ground down onto her hand, breathing harshly, and then there was a fourth finger. It wasn't quite what he'd meant but there was something fantastic about the burn that came as she spread her fingers inside him, and he moaned raggedly.

"Oh you are cute."

He blinked and found himself staring into brown eyes, mere shades away from the gold that kept him awake at night. Then her mouth was pressed firmly against his and her tongue was invading his senses.

He broke the kiss with a rasp, "Please, enough, just get in me already." And he whimpered at the loss of her fingers, but not a moment later a blunt head was pressing slowly in him, and then all the way in one sharp thrust. A garbled mess of words and sounds eked out of his throat; he shifted his hips restlessly trying to adjust to the sensation of fullness.

Anorra laughed merrily, "I should be thanking you. I don't get to do this every day." She began a gentle, but relentless rhythm. Her deep grunts of effort puffed against his ear and he bared his throat to her.

"Bite me, please, hard enough to leave a mark."

When she did Jaskier imagined Geralt's stubble and how it would scratch against his skin, how he'd accidentally draw blood with his just this side of too sharp canines. Her hips picked up speed and he could almost hear him say it, rough and close to breaking, _Fuck- Jaskier, I'm close._ Then Anorra switched the angle of her onslaught, and she was pounding that spot that made him see stars.

"Fuck- fuck- Geralt-" And Jaskier froze, his eyes flying open. Geralt's words from earlier flashed red and furious in his mind.

_The rooms are right next to each other. What if I hear-_

His hands scrambled for purchase in the sheets and he cried out.

"That's it darling, let go for me." Anorra’s voice rumbled in his ear, there was a hand added to his length and he shuddered as the tension was forced brutally out of his body and replaced with a renewed swell of pleasure.

He clutched at her back as a lamentation broke out of him. His hands found their way to her braid which he undid, letting her long, soft hair free to his fingers. In his mind it was not red but white.

Those sharp teeth were back on his neck and there were sweet benedictions to his body breathed wetly against his skin- and fuck if that wasn't exactly what he needed. He crested high on a wave of pleasure and concentrated on the dive into it, letting the rush and heat wash over his body till he was lax exhausted.

As he slowly came to, he realized Anorra hadn't stopped her ministrations and that buzz was quickly bordering on too much, but it was still so good. She hoisted one of his legs over her shoulder.

"Ah- by Melitele-" He choked.

But she only grinned wolfishly down at him.

_She really does enjoy this._

It was going to be a long night, but Jaskier could not have been more pleased with the arrangement.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun with this it's not even funny. I also put a lot of thought into the actual style of my writing here, so let me know if you like it, or notice how it differs from Geralt's chapter. You can talk to me [ here on my tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/autotragedywrites).  
> Chapter 3 will be out soon, it's just some fun bonus content :3  
> I talk a bit about my process and post my rambles on there while I'm writing if that interests you!  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated.  
> Happy Trails!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some bonus from the morning after. These two are just a little ridiculous. Enjoy!

The light of the next morning wormed its way into Jaskier's room too early for his liking; even worse it was well towards their time to leave, having only paid for one night.

He sat up in the bed and took a deep breath.

_ No time like the present. _

He was shocked at how good he felt. Sore, but good. His body was buzzing and ached in a way that was pleasant and familiar. He felt light and bright, and he realized that was the best night's sleep he'd had in some time. It wasn’t that he normally slept poorly, but his mind was always alight with some new and noisy thought. It rarely quieted or allowed him dreamless respite. 

Anorra had effectively fucked all thought out of his head, and Jaskier was most thankful. She was nowhere to be found, but there was a tray with some bread and cheese waiting for him on the bedside table. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing when his muscles twinged in protest.

Once he broke his fast, he stood and searched for his clothes, which he found draped carefully over the back of the chair by the vanity. He caught sight of his reflection there. His collarbones and the sides of his neck were decorated with pink and purple marks. He brushed his fingertips against them, and a blossom of heat unfurled in his chest.

However that warmth shriveled and died, rather unceremoniously, when he recalled that there was in fact someone waiting for him. Well, he hoped there still was.

* * *

"I know, those oats aren't as fresh, girl, we'll pick up some more before we leave, and an apple for your troubles. Have I ever let you go hungry before?" Geralt placated, patting Roach’s main carefully. 

She huffed at him.

Not for the first time it crossed his mind that she was far too smart, far too human, for a horse sometimes.

Geralt was preparing her tack for the day's journey when he heard footsteps approaching from behind him. Without turning he sniffed the air, it was Jaskier, but his usual scent was buried underneath contentment, sex, and something else sharp. Anxiety?

He carefully held his relaxed posture. Jaskier knew that he knew Jaskier was there, but he was determined not to upset the balance. So he continued to feign ignorance until Jaskier announced his presence. Surely Geralt couldn't ruin anything if he didn't  _ do _ anything.

"So, Geralt. Where are we off to next?"

No hint of nervousness in voice, he wasn't planning on doing anything either then.

"Supplies for Roach, then to the next town over." He said quietly, securing the last buckle to keep his saddle in place.

"No other beasts in town?" And this time, Jaskier's airy tone sounded more genuine.

"None that anyone here can tell me of." He shrugged. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Only waiting on your word, darling."

Yes. There it was, everything was fine. Nothing had to change. Whatever new knowledge he had about Jaskier's feelings could be pushed to the back of his mind. Besides, whatever he did feel would likely fade with time. His friend loved deeply, steadfastly, head first, and often into tragedy. But he loved frequently, there was no reason to believe his attraction for Geralt was any different. They travelled together often, went through hardships, saved each other's lives; surely those things could muddy the waters.

In any case it wasn’t as though Geralt could offer him a proper life. Eventually, Jaskier would grow old enough that he would want to- need to settle down.

So when Geralt took Roach's reins in hand and turned to lead her out, he wasn't expecting his eyes to be drawn so quickly to the enticing array of bruises that trailed past Jaskier's shirt.

A hot ray of- that was not jealousy- darted through his mind, which he resolutely ignored, in favor of raising an eyebrow.

A pink tinge took over the tips of Jaskier's ears, but he only shrugged.

"I'm feeling in a walking mood." Geralt began, and smirked at the bard's confusion, before he continued, "Would you prefer to ride today?"

Jaskier's mouth opened and closed repeatedly and his face went through numerous colors before he settled on, "You're having a go at me aren't you- That's- That's just not fair Geralt!"

Geralt's shoulders shook with silent laughter.

"You wound me, my friend, the throws of- of passion do not bend for any man- oh what am I saying, shut up you!" But there was a grin on his face when he gave a rough shove to Geralt's arm.

Everything was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was pretty short, but I felt that a conclusion was needed, especially after how tense this all was. I hope you enjoyed this little update.  
> There are more parts to this series coming, we'll get through it, I just know it.  
> Talk to me on tumblr [ here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/autotragedywrites). I would love to answer questions, prompts, or talk more in depth with anyone who's interested!  
> See you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Goodness, I had a lot of fun writing this first chapter. I really loved writing Muriel and I want to explore her character a little bit.at some point. I think that was the gayest straight sex I've ever written. I'm still looking for a beta reader, potentially for future fics/series as well. The second chapter of this will be up in a day or two, Jaskier's perspective here we come!  
> As usual, feel free to reach out on my [tumblr](https://autotragedywrites.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> This chapter was inspired by [ Geralt and Jaskier's Brothel Adventures ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24029020) by cptxrodgers, so if you liked this, and haven't read that, I really recommend!!  
> Happy trails!


End file.
